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Chapter Seven

Kakashi told the whole village. He turned everyone against her, acting as the poor older brother. Everyone pitied him for having me as his sister.

It hurt. It hurt a lot.

To see your friends turn on you, to see them walk away.

And now I sit, three years after that incident, wondering if Sakura would do the same thing.

And I know that when I find out the truth, it will hurt. A lot.

Because I already knew what she was going to say--everyone else said it; why wouldn't she?

She was just as much the same as them, the ones that came from the same town as me. They were friends, they liked sports (Sakura and Ino liked volleyball), they were smart (Sakura, Hinata, Sasuke, Neji, and plenty others were in her advanced class), and they were fun to hang out with. Sayuri always saw the joy in the pinkette's eyes when hanging around campus; which was why they were very photogenic.

Sakura and Sasuke were like the best couple on campus. They joked around with each other but were caring. No one knew why they weren't even together.

Sakura and Naruto were the best of friends. The pinkette was also best friends with Ino, Hinata, and Tenten; creating a girl group.

They all seemed happy, but all I could remember was their disapproved faces when learning from Kakashi that I was--

"She didn't even give me the signal!"

"What, is she gonna bat her eyes at you in Morse Code--'Ted, kiss me!' No! You just kiss her!"

"Not if you get the signal!"

"Did I give Marshall the signal?"

"..."

"No! I didn't, I swear!"

I sighed and shut the TV off, before returning to my homework.

In the back of my head, a voice spoke up. Even though she may seem like them, she is unique in her own way.

She's different.

She won't be like them.

...---...

After Kakashi told the village about his sister, the attention was all on her. She was in the spotlight now. People were gossiping about her. They were talking about her.

I hated it.

Glares were thrown her way. Crumpled balls of paper soared through the air, hitting her head, making her turn around and see--

"I keep coming home with bruises on my face,"

"Cuts on my skin,"

"But nobody cares--"

"--I guess it's because I don't matter--"

"--what's the point then?"

They called her a dork. They called her ugly. They called her fat. They called her stupid. They called her a--

"Mom, Dad, why are people so...horrible?"

Boys smirked at her. They cornered her and teased her. Girls wrinkled their noses in disgust, called her ugly, and walked away.

"Today is February 18th.

I said the answer in class when I was called on.

A girl next to me laughed and said my voice was so

Coarse, scratchy--like a broken record.

She said I should never speak again."

She pulled the sleeves of her sweater further down her arm, hiding her neck with the collar.

"Sure! Just lie there and cry! Be silent! Because that's all you can ever do! Just ignore everything and not do a thing!"

Keep talking and they make fun of what you say, of how you sound.

Stay silent and they daunt you, tease you.

She chose to not speak at all.